


Novelty

by thirty2flavors



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 21:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15916551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirty2flavors/pseuds/thirty2flavors
Summary: “It’s the implants. I get migraines sometimes.” His pinched smile faded. “They’ve gotten worse ever since…”He mimed ripping something out of his head; Sasha cringed.





	Novelty

**Author's Note:**

> 1k of fluff 'cause a friend bonked their head. That... is literally it. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

When Sasha finally relinquished her lazy morning sleep and opened her eyes, she was surprised to find Rhys still in the room.

Usually, on mornings when she lounged around, he was long gone by the time she roused herself, off to deal with Atlas’ latest crisis. Yet there he was, perched on the edge of the bed, fastening the buttons of his shirt like he was moving in slow motion. 

She pushed herself up on her elbows and raised an eyebrow. “You all right, slowpoke?” 

“Huh?” He glanced over his shoulder at her in a daze, brown eye wrenched shut. “Oh. Yeah.” He focused on his buttons again. “Just a headache.”

“Hungover? After one beer?” Sasha snorted, crawling over to plunk her chin on his shoulder. “Lightweight.”

“Not hungover.” Rhys smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “It’s the implants.” Finally finished with his shirt buttons, he pulled on his waistcoat to start the process all over again. “I get migraines sometimes.” The pinched smile faded. “They’ve gotten worse ever since…”

He mimed ripping something out of his head. Sasha cringed, the snide joke about cyborgs dying on the tip of her tongue.

“Painkillers?” she suggested instead.

Rhys shook his head, then regretted rattling his brain around even more. “Don’t work. Just gotta ride it out.”

“Maybe you should stay home today,” she said.

“Nah. I’ll be fine.” 

“Really? ‘Cause I feel like you’re losing the battle with your wardrobe here.” She looked pointedly down to where his fingers fumbled on the second button. 

“I’ve got work to do.” He stood up, and Sasha’s chin slipped off his shoulder. “I just gotta…” He swayed on his feet and pressed the heel of his hand to his ECHO eye. 

Sasha rolled her eyes. She reached for his free wrist and gave it a tug. “Rhys—”

“I’m okay!” he insisted, a little impatient as he pulled his hand free. “It’s not a big deal. It just feels… slightly… sort of… like someone’s rooting around in my skull with a shard of glass.” Deflating, he massaged his temples with both hands. “Fuck.”

Sasha crossed her arms, a silent _told-you-so_ in the twist of her lips. 

Rhys sighed and let his hands drop. “Yeah, you might have a point. I’ll just tell Yvette that I...” He thought about it for a second and then shrugged. “...died.”

“Cool,” said Sasha. “Dibs on all your stuff.” 

He slipped out of the waistcoat with his eyes screwed shut, dropping it to the floor. Sasha scooted away from the edge of the bed as he crawled back into it, rolling onto his side and curling into the fetal position.

Sasha patted his arm before she slid to her feet and stretched. “You want me to get you something to eat?”

Rhys made a wordless noise of pure disgust.

“That’s a no, then. Water?”

Rhys shrugged. Even with his face half-buried in pillows, his expression was pained. Sasha’s stupid sentimental heart thumped in response. 

“I’ll be back soon,” she told him, though she got no reply.

* * *

Rhys was exactly where she’d left him when she returned showered, dressed and freshly caffeinated. She set a glass of water on the bedside table, drew the blinds to darken the room, and looped her headphones around her neck before climbing into the empty space next to him.

Rhys stirred as the bed wobbled, though he didn’t open his eyes. 

“You don’t have to hang around,” he muttered, muffled by his pillow. “I’m not gonna be very good company.”

“That’s all right.” With a pillow at the small of her back, she settled up against the headboard. “I like when you’re quiet. It’s novel.”

“You do not,” Rhys objected with a sniff. “You love talking to me.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m a great conversationalist. I’m very interesting. I’m—nghhh.” He broke off with a hiss. “I’m gonna stop making noises now.”

Sasha shot him a teasing grin even as she squeezed his nearest hand in hers. “Looking forward to it.”

Rhys grumbled but said nothing more. Sasha slid the headphones over her ears and shut her eyes, foot tapping to the beat of its own accord. The length of a song passed before she felt something warm on her thigh and looked down to find Rhys repositioning himself, his head nestled in her lap.

Sasha’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a smile creeping into the corners of her lips. She lowered one hand gently, her fingertips grazing experimentally through his hair, unsure whether or not the gesture would be welcome.

With a quiet sound of appreciation, Rhys burrowed further into her lap, his cool metal fingers coming to rest on her bare knee. Sasha stroked his hair rhythmically, and Rhys let out a relaxed sigh that tickled her bare skin. 

“See?” Sasha whispered, bending over to talk softly. “It’s nice when you’re quiet.”

The hand on her knee flipped her off.

Sasha laughed. “Get some rest, babe.” She kissed the side of his head before she straightened up again. “You can talk my ear off when your head’s not splitting open.”

He pressed his lips to her inner thigh in a kiss Sasha understood as a thank you, and then he went limp, his breathing slowly evening out. She stroked his hair until the last traces of discomfort melted from his face, leaving behind an enviable look of peace as he dozed in her lap.

It felt good, Sasha thought, to have that effect on someone. Better still to not have that feeling tainted by guilt or her own deception. 

Warmth and pride mingled and blossomed in her chest, a feeling she associated more and more with the idiot currently drooling in her lap. Someone trusted her. Someone was right to. There was novelty in that far beyond Rhys being quiet.

“You’re not such bad company, you know,” she told him, but she spoke softly, and he didn’t wake. She rested her hand on his shoulder and closed her eyes, lost in the sound of her music.

**Author's Note:**

> say hi on tumblr: [@oodlyenough](http://oodlyenough.tumblr.com/)


End file.
